


i want you from somewhere within

by bi_lovely



Series: we're secretly out of control [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Bottom Enjolras, Bottom Grantaire, Coming Untouched, Enjolras Has Feelings, Feelings, Fluff, Grantaire Is Bad At Feelings, M/M, Sex, Top Enjolras, Top Grantaire, bottom!jolras, bottom!taire, bowling, christmas !!!, courfeyrac and combeferre acting like the parents that they are, did i mention there’s angst, do you hear the people sigh in relief, enjolras is bad at feelings but not as bad as one might expect, feelings discussion, grantaire has lots and lots of feelings, grantaire's perspective, happy ending finally, light dom/sub element, like really fucking light, sad!jolras, safe sex, still kinda unhealthy relationship tbh, top!jolras, top!taire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_lovely/pseuds/bi_lovely
Summary: “If I am a god, Grantaire,” Enjolras said breathlessly, “then you are a god.”OrGrantaire continues to pine, Enjolras has family shit he needs to work out, and Courfeyrac and Combeferre's heads might just explode if those two don't shut up and date each other already.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pantasticlams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantasticlams/gifts).



> title is from "oceans" by seafret
> 
> Here is a L O V E L Y poem that was written out of inspiration from this fanfiction! Thank you very much to obscuriae on tumblr for this phenomenal piece of writing!! I now consider this a secondary summary for this one shot <3<3<3
> 
> ///
> 
> "If I'm a god, then you're a god";  
> he insisted once, and kissed my skin.  
> Until I felt no longer flawed,  
> until he felt like I believed him.  
> I smiled and though, back then,  
> that he didn't like being lifted upon  
> all the people, and crowds, and men;  
> so I kissed him back and said he'd won.  
> I thought him fearless, made of marble,  
> a deity of Sun and strong beliefs;  
> but now he's bruised, and filled with grief  
> — he's fallen down with tears and marvel.
> 
> Is a god still a god, if he needs to be held?  
> What if he's a bird that's been shot and felled,  
> with a broken wing and a broken heart,  
> shaking and threatening to fall apart?  
> I used to believe he was stardust and gold  
> and I was a wild thing,  
> hopeless and damned;  
> now I know he's a lost boy, just like I am  
> and only together, we could become gods.

Grantaire was pissed. 

No, on second thought, he was more than pissed. He was mad, he was angry, he was  _ livid.  _

It wasn’t his place to tell Enjolras what to do, and he  _ had  _ warned him to be careful. But what did the idiot do? He came back from that fucking protest in London with a fucking black eye. 

And sure, it was just a black eye. Some guy had punched him, that was all. He hadn’t been beaten up, he hadn’t been stabbed or shot at. Grantaire  _ knew  _ all of that. He didn’t care. He was still pissed off. 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Enjolras said softly in his ear. He was laying on top of him, playing with his dark hair. 

Grantaire looked into his face, took one glance at that huge dark bruise around his eyes, and he scowled again. 

“Come  _ on,  _ Grantaire,” Enjolras whined. “I’m not hurt. Not really. It could have been worse.”

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Grantaire snapped. “It  _ could have been worse.  _ You  _ could  _ very well get  _ shot  _ at one of these protests or rallies or whatever the fuck else you go to these days.”

“I know it isn’t totally safe but that’s the price I’ve got to pay to —” 

“Yeah, you’ve given me the whole spiel before, thanks,” Grantaire huffed. 

“Grantaire, I don’t want you to be mad at me,” Enjolras pouted. 

“You should’ve thought about that before you went and got yourself punched in the face,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras sighed. He dipped his head down so that his mouth was right next to Grantaire’s ear and said, “Let me make it up to.”

Grantaire looked at him, uncertain of what Enjolras was going to do next. 

“Let  _ me _ fuck  _ you _ for once,” Enjolras smiled. 

_ Oh,  _ Grantaire thought and he was certainly interested.

It had been a month now since they had begun with their…  _ arrangement.  _ They’d had sex a good handful of times, but Grantaire had always been the one on top, always been the one doing the fucking. He had never even let himself dream that Enjolras might want to… 

But here he was, and he was offering. And Grantaire was still pissed, but Enjolras was right in thinking this was how to make it up to Grantaire.

“Can I?” Enjolras asked. 

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Go ahead.”

Enjolras grinned like Grantaire had given him a real treat. He pulls Grantaire’s shirt off, and the rest of his clothes soon follow, quickly ending up in a heap on the floor. 

Enjolras prodded at Grantaire’s lips and Grantaire opened his mouth around Enjolras’s fingers, taking them deep into mouth until he felt the fingertips brush the back of his throat. 

“Is it some kind of kink?” Enjolras asked suddenly. 

Grantaire furrowed his brow in puzzlement. He hummed questioningly around the digits in his mouth. 

“The whole, you know,  _ Greek god  _ thing,” Enjolras tilted his head. “Is it a kink? Is that why you call me Apollo?”

Grantaire pulled his mouth off of Enjolras’ fingers. “Not this again. I  _ explained.  _ It’s not my fault if you weren’t listening.”

“I listened,” Enjolras huffed. “You told me a poem and sucked me off, that hardly counts as an explanation. So, is it a kink?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “ _ No. _ ” 

“Well, I suppose that wouldn’t make sense,” Enjolras nodded. “You’ve been calling me Apollo for as long as I can remember. Since I’ve known you. So what is it?”

With another roll of his eyes, Grantaire was about to make a witty comeback, but it was lost on his lips as Enjolras slipped one finger past his entrance. He gasped and curled his fingers around the sheets and  _ did not  _ miss it when Enjolras smirked in a proud sort of way. 

Enjolras curled his finger and moved it around until he found Grantaire’s prostate and Grantaire moaned lowly. 

“So if I am Apollo,” Enjolras said as he began to pump his finger in and out at an achingly slow pace, “what does that make you?”

“I’m — I’m just —” he whined and his back arched off of the bed when Enjolras slipped a second finger in beside the first, still moving them slowly,  _ too  _ slowly. “I’m just  _ human, _ ” Grantaire gasped out.

“No, I don’t think so,” Enjolras shook his head. “What about Artemis?”

“Oh, so I’m a girl?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows. 

“No, but,” Enjolras shrugged, “goddess of the hunt. That seems very you, don’t you think so?”

“No. And besides, she’s also the goddess of  _ virginity, _ ” Grantaire said pointedly when Enjolras added a third finger into him. “And  _ Apollo’s sister. _ ”

“Good point, good point,” Enjolras grinned. “That’d be weird… Okay, what about Aphrodite?”

“Love, beauty,” Grantaire snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“I do,” Enjolras tilted his head. “Goddess of  _ pleasure, _ ” he said and he did  _ something  _ — Grantaire couldn’t even tell what — with those fingers of his and Grantaire gasped loudly, reaching up and grabbing onto Enjolras’ arm instinctively. 

Grantaire sucked in a deep breath. “I am not Aphrodite.”

“And I am not Apollo,” Enjolras shrugged. “This is all theoretical.”

“Well, theoretically, if there  _ were  _ Greek gods and they walked among us, I would not be one of them,” Grantaire hissed. 

“I don’t agree,” Enjolras said, finally adding a fourth finger and moving them a little faster. “You know who I really think you are, though?”

“Do tell, I’m on the edge of my seat,” Grantaire said, managing to be sarcastic even when he could barely breathe because Enjolras’ fingers were knuckle deep inside of him.

“Dionysus,” Enjolras said matter-of-factly and he slipped his fingers out of Grantaire all together. 

“Is that so?” Grantaire snorted, doing all that he could not to whine at the loss, or at the empty feeling that washed over him. “The god of wine. I see how it is.”

“The god of art,” Enjolras said and Grantaire hummed. “And of insanity,” Enjolras added, reaching for Grantaire’s bedside table, for a condom and the lube. 

“So you’re saying I’m insane,” Grantaire laughed, not offended, and he watched Enjolras shedding his clothes and rolling the condom over his cock and slicking himself up.

“I’m saying everyone is but most people are too proud, too egotistical, and they’d never admit it in a million years.” Enjolras leaned forward, lining up with Grantaire’s entrance, pressing in slowly. “But not you. You’re honest.”

“Yep, that’s — that’s me,” Grantaire chuckled, ignoring the way his stomach flipped when Enjolras was completely inside of him, doing all that he could just to bite back a long and drawn out moan. “Not an ounce of pride and no ego in sight.”

Enjolras moved inside of him. Grantaire expected him to set a slow pace, expected he would absolutely torture him, but he sped up fairly quickly. Enjolras kissed the center of Grantaire’s throat as he fucked him relentlessly and Grantaire just  _ whined,  _ winding his fingers into Enjolras’ curls. 

“If I am a god, Grantaire,” Enjolras said breathlessly, “then you are a god.”

“Oh, fuck, Enj,” Grantaire hissed. “ _ Touch me. _ ” 

“No,” Enjolras shook his head and Grantaire screeched in an exasperated fashion. “You don’t need it. You can come, just —  _ just  _ like this, Grantaire, I  _ know  _ you can do it.”

Enjolras felt Grantaire’s grip on his hair loosening like he was going to move them to touch himself, saw the defiant look ablaze in his eyes. 

“ _ Don’t you dare, _ ” Enjolras hissed, and he fucked him just a little harder, rougher,  _ faster.  _

Grantaire gasped and his hands clenched around Enjolras’ blond hair again. He tugged sharply. 

“You can do it, you can do it, you can do it,” Enjolras had his mouth right next Grantaire’s ear, whispering words of encouragement. 

Grantaire sobbed. “ _ Please,  _ Enjolras,  _ please! _ ”

“I know you can do this, Grantaire.” Enjolras bit down on his shoulder. 

“Enjolras —  _ Enj  _ — oh my  _ god! _ ” Grantaire choked and he could feel it, that familiar heat pooling in his stomach, the buzzing in his ears. He could  _ feel  _ it, he needed to get there, but it was just out of reach —  _ right there,  _ just out of reach!

“You’re so good for me, Grantaire,  _ always _ so good for me,” Enjolras said. He kissed him hard, licking into his mouth, swiping his tongue over Grantaire’s teeth and across his bottom lip. 

Grantaire groaned into Enjolras’ mouth and came hard — harder, maybe, than he’d ever come before. Stripes of white adorned his and Enjolras’ stomach and Enjolras bit his shoulder again to stifle a loud moan as he came right after him.   
  


They breathed heavily, loudly, trying to even out their breaths. Enjolras slid off of Grantaire, laid down at his side and rested a hand on his chest. 

“That was —  _ wow  _ — that was really great,” Grantaire sighed happily. He turned onto his side to look at Enjolras. He reached up, letting his fingers brush the bruise around Enjolras’ eye, and he scowled. “I’m still mad at you, though.”

“Oh, come  _ on _ ,” Enjolras rolled his eyes. “After  _ that?  _ You’re  _ still mad? _ ” 

“Yes,” Grantaire snapped.

Enjolras sighed. “Okay. Be as mad as long as you like. Just don’t stop talking to me, okay?”

Grantaire pouted.  _ As if I’d ever be able to manage that,  _ he thought to himself bitterly. 

“Hey, Grantaire?” Enjolras said. 

“Mhm?” Grantaire replied. 

“If I am a god, you are a god,” he told him again.

Grantaire sighed, closed his eyes, and rested his his cheek against the top of Enjolras’ head. “Whatever you say, Apollo.”

***

“That was a  _ lot  _ more detail than I wanted to hear,” Eponine frowned after hearing the entire tale of Enjolras fucking Grantaire. 

“Wasn’t it you who, back in September, wanted  _ more details? _ ” Grantaire raised his eyebrows. 

“Wasn’t it you who, back in September, refused to give me  _ more details? _ ” Eponine said mockingly with her arms crossed. 

“Okay, well, now details are important!” Grantaire exclaimed. “What do you think? Do you think he likes me too?”

“I don’t know,” Eponine sighed. “It certainly sounds more  _ personal  _ than physical, and believe me when I say I want you to be together so badly, but we still need to look at this from a realistic point of view.”

“Oh, sure, as soon as I want to be optimistic and think that the guy I’m in love with might  _ actually  _ like me, you’ve got to go and be  _ realistic, _ ” Grantaire rolled his eyes dramatically.    
  
“That’s exactly why I need to,” Eponine raised her eyebrows at her best friend. “Usually you’re the cynical one, the skeptic if you will, so if you’re going to be hopeful and positive then I’ve got to be a realist.”

“Great,” Grantaire sighed. “So what’s going on here, you know,  _ realistically? _ ” 

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Enjolras could  _ realistically  _ really like you the way you like him,” Eponine said, nodding slowly. “You could also be reading into this the wrong way, though. I mean, just think about it, okay? It’s kind of weird. This whole time it’s been about the sex for him, and then all of a sudden, totally out of the blue, he’s being  _ intimate  _ and, honestly, kind of  _ romantic. _ So  _ realistically,  _ you could be misinterpreting everything that he’s doing.”

“I — I mean, I don’t  _ think  _ I am,” Grantaire said. 

“Is there any chance at all you could be misunderstanding?” Eponine asked. 

“Well, I — I guess — well —” Grantaire sighed. “Well, yes,  _ of course  _ there is. This is Enjolras we’re talking about. No one knows exactly what goes on inside that head of his, not even him.”

Eponine frowned. “You know what I’m going to say next, right?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire sighed heavily. 

“Do I need to say it anyway?” Eponine asked. 

“No.”

“I’m going to, though.” 

“I figured.”

“ _ Talk to him. _ ”

Grantaire groaned and flopped down onto his back. “I hate love. Love sucks.”

Eponine frowned, then nodded and laid down beside him, curling up to his side. “Me too.”

***

Grantaire pulled the blanket over his and Enjolras’ bare bodies, cuddling up to him, ready to fall asleep. 

“Goodnight,” Grantaire said and kissed Enjolras’ cheek. 

“I’m spending Christmas with my parents,” Enjolras said totally out of the blue. 

Grantaire opened his eyes. “Oh?”

“I told myself last year that I wouldn’t do it,” Enjolras frowned. “ _ Swore  _ I wouldn’t do it. But they invited me and I — I don’t know, Grantaire, I said  _ yes. _ ”

Grantaire remembered the first year of university when he was still loving Enjolras from a distance — well, not that wasn’t what he was currently doing, but it had been a much further distance — and Enjolras came back from winter break and tried to date a girl. 

That had ended quickly. But it had happened, and it had happened again the year after, and Grantaire had no doubt in his mind that Enjolras was just trying to please his parents.

“They want me to be something I’m not,” Enjolras sighed. “They won’t accept me, they’ll only accept this fake image they have of me. But they’re still my parents, you know? I can’t just cut them out.”

Grantaire actually  _ didn’t  _ know what it was to feel like that, but he didn’t want to make Enjolras feel worse about the whole situation so he just hummed and held Enjolras a little closer. 

***

“What the hell is going on between you Enjolras?” Courfeyrac stopped Grantaire in his tracks on his way to class. 

“Excuse me?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows. 

“Something is going on between you and Enjolras, I  _ know  _ it,” Courfeyrac accused. 

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Grantaire shook his head and tried to stride past Courfeyrac to set off for his class, but the shorter man grabbed onto his arm and yanked him backward. 

“Combeferre told me about how you came by and swept him off for coffee last month,” Courfeyrac hissed, “and then how he was gone  _ all day  _ and didn’t come back that night and when he finally came back the next morning he was absolutely  _ shitfaced. _ ”

“We spent a day together,” Grantaire scowled. “We got drunk. It’s not a big deal.”

“It  _ is  _ a big deal,” Courfeyrac said. “You guys can’t stand each other!”

“That’s not true,” Grantaire shook his head. “We’re friends. We just hung out for the day.  _ Nothing else happened.  _ Now can you please let me get to me class?”

“No.”

“ _ Courfeyrac! _ ”

“ _ Grantaire! _ ” 

“I need to get to class! Fucking move!” Grantaire shouted. 

Courfeyrac huffed. “Fine! But don’t think you can avoid this conversation forever!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Grantaire said. He hurried past Courfeyrac, who was still shouting after him, and into his classroom. He rushed to a seat in the back corner of the room and pulled out his phone to text Eponine.

Before he even had half the message typed, he received a text from Enjolras.

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ Combeferre is, in fact, suspicious. You were wrong. I don’t want to be that jerk who says “I told you so” but... I did tell you so. _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ He asked me what’s going on between us. I told him nothing, but I don’t think he believes me. What do we do now? _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ yeah yeah i get it i’m always wrong _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ idk what there is to do except keep denying it _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ ferre mustve told courf bcuz courf just cornered me on my way to class and interrogated me  _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ This is the worst thing that could possibly happen.  _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ i betcha the victims of the HOLOCAUST would disagree _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ and i bet the people who thought they’d take a nice trip to murica on a ship called the TITANIC would also disagree with you  _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ You’re weird.  _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ thx i try  _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ ABRAHAM LINCOLN _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ Excuse me? _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ abraham lincoln, the 16th (i think ???? im pretty sure but i could be wrong????) president of the usa _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ he would also disagree with your statement that this is the worst thing that could possibly happen _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ ya know he just wanted a nice night at the theater and laugh a little and you know what happened to him??? _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ He was assassinated.  _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ HE GOT SHOT _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ IN THE HEAD _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ Grantaire… _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ yesssss apollo ? _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ Be serious.  _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ i am wild  _

**_From Apollo:_ ** _ Grantaire, this is important! _

**_To Apollo:_ ** _ class starting gotta go byee xx <3 _

***

Grantaire was standing outside the library later that day, sat on a bench underneath a nearly leafless tree. As the days were bringing everyone closer and closer to Christmas, the weather was going from pleasantly cool to bitterly cold. 

Enjolras came striding up to Grantaire, looking over his shoulder several times as if he suspected he might be being followed. “Hey,” he greeted cautiously. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Grantaire nodded, getting to his feet. “Where would you like to go for dinner?”

“Anywhere you want, as long as it’s not on campus,” Enjolras said. 

Grantaire nodded again, slowly. “Okay, let’s go. I know the perfect place.”

They caught a cab and headed across town to a small restaurant, a hole-in-the-wall kind of place that not many people knew about. They sat in the back corner, just as they had a few weeks earlier at the coffeehouse near campus. They ordered drinks and food and fell into a heavy silence. 

“So,” Grantaire finally said. 

“What are we doing?” Enjolras sighed. 

“We’re having dinner.”

“ _ Grantaire. _ ” 

“Right, sorry.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “I mean,  _ really, _ what are we doing?”

“We’re sleeping together,” Grantaire said. “And that’s  _ fine.  _ There’s nothing wrong with that. If they know, they’re not going to hate you for it. But they don’t need to know. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are suspicious, sure, but they don’t have any proof.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I suppose,” Enjolras nodded. 

Their waitress came by and set their drinks on the table before whisking away once more. 

“Look, if you want to stop whatever it is we are, then I’ll understand,” Grantaire said. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel obligated to keep doing this now that we’ve —”

“No, no,” Enjolras shook his head quickly. “I — I like this. It feels good. I like being friends with you.”

_ Friends. Just friends.  _ That voice at the back of Grantaire’s head mind was back.

“And you’re still supposed to tie me up, remember?” Enjolras smirked. 

Grantaire laughed. “Yes, I do. I sure do remember that.”

“Good,” Enjolras smiled.

The waitress came over again, placed their food in front of them, and told them to enjoy. 

“This is nice,” Enjolras said. “We should do this more often. Like, go out as actual friends and not just hole up somewhere and have sex. Just… talk.”

“Sounds good to me,” Grantaire nodded. 

Enjolras smiled. “Good. I’m glad.”

And so they just…  _ talked.  _ About anything. About homework, about class, about different professors that they liked or didn’t like. Grantaire mentioned how Marius was jumping the shark, thinking Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was relevant enough to be a Halloween costume already and Enjolras said, “Oh, I wouldn’t know, I’ve never read any of the Harry Potter books,” to which Grantaire replied, “You’ve got to be  _ fucking kidding me! _ ” with a scoff before he declared that he was going to force him to read all the books and watch all the movies one day. 

“Oh, but since you mentioned Marius,” Enjolras said and launched into a conversation all about Marius’ girlfriend, Cosette.

Grantaire frowned, thinking sadly of Eponine, but listened intently to anything Enjolras had to say (as if he ever did anything but).

“She seems nice enough,” Enjolras shrugged. “Actually, she seems  _ very  _ nice. A very sweet girl. She’s smart, funny. She’s told me, just last week, she’d like to join our little group sometime in the new year when she has a bit more free time. So, no, I don’t have any problems with  _ her.  _ The problem is  _ Marius. _ ”

“When is the cause of any problem ever  _ not  _ Marius?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows. 

“Good point,” Enjolras nodded. “It’s just that he’s kind of obsessed with her. It’s a little creepy, honestly, but she seems to be really into him too. God knows why, she’s way out of his league. They’re always together. They can’t go one day without seeing one another.”

“You know, apart from when you were in London, we haven’t gone a day without seeing each other in a while,” Grantaire said. “Just saying.”

“Yeah, well, that’s different,” Enjolras shrugged. 

“How?”

“We’re not dating,” Enjolras said simply. 

“Right,” Grantaire nodded.  _ As if I needed reminding.  _

A while later, Grantaire found himself listening to a story about the time Enjolras had gone to Disney World. 

“Not DisneyLand in Paris, Disney  _ World  _ in  _ America, _ ” Enjolras said. “It’s not the original, that one is in California and I went to the one in Florida, but it was incredible.”

Enjolras talked about his childhood for a while, making sure not to bring up Grantaire’s childhood at all since he had told Enjolras once, while drunk, that he hated talking about it. 

Later on, after the bill had been paid and the duo were back on the other side of town in Grantaire’s dorm room, Enjolras flopped down across Grantaire’s chest with a yawn. 

“I want to sleep with you,” he said.    
  
“Are you sure about that?” Grantaire laughed. “You look like you’re half asleep already.”

“I know, I mean,” Enjolras looked up at him, “I mean I want to sleep here. I want to sleep next you. I mean — I mean I don’t want to  _ sleep with you,  _ I want to  _ sleep… with you…  _ while  _ you also sleep. _ ” 

Grantaire nodded. “Okay, I think we can make that happen.” He reached to his side table to turn of the lamp and pulled the blanket all the way up over their heads. 

“G’night,” Enjolras said, voice already growing groggy. 

“Goodnight, Enjolras,” Grantaire said with a smile. “Goodnight.”

***

Courfeyrac cornered Grantaire again, but this time it wasn’t while he was on his way to class. It was at the end of the day and he was headed back to his dorm room to take a quick nap before grabbing something to eat when Courfeyrac strode up to him, grabbed him by the arm, and turned him around without a word, steering him in the direction of Courfeyrac’s own dorm. 

“What the  _ hell,  _ Courf?” Grantaire snapped. 

“Like I said, you can’t avoid this talk,” Courfeyrac said.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Grantaire groaned. “There is  _ nothing  _ going on between me and Enjolras! Nothing! Zero things!”

“I don’t believe you,” Courfeyrac said, leading Grantaire through the front door of his dorm building. 

“Well, I don’t care  _ what  _ you believe,” Grantaire narrowed his eyes. “Would you let go of me already? You can’t just drag me around wherever you please!”

“Just shut up!” Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, pushing him into his dorm room. 

“Hello, Grantaire.” Combeferre waved. He was sat, legs crossed, on Courfeyrac’s bed. “I told Courf to be nice about getting you to come and talk to as, but I’m going to assume he didn’t do as I asked.”

“No, he most  _ certainly  _ did not!” Grantaire glared at Courfeyrac. “What the hell is this about?”

“You need to help Enjolras!” Courfeyrac shouted at him. “So if you could just admit to whatever it is you two have got going on that’d be really fucking great!”

“Courf,” Combeferre sighed. “Calm. Please.”

“Right. Sorry,” Courfeyrac pouted. 

“Listen, Grantaire,” Combeferre began. 

“‘Ferre, there is  _ nothing going on, _ ” Grantaire groaned in an exasperated fashion. “Can’t the two of you just accept that we’re just friends?”

“Calm down, Grantaire,” Combeferre said gently. “I believe you.”

“You do?” Grantaire said hopefully. 

“Well, no,” Combeferre said and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “But I will accept it all the same. Because regardless of whether or not you’re dating, if you are just friends, he has taken to you. He’s found some sort of comfort in you, some kind of stress relief.”

Grantaire prayed to God his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. 

_ Stress relief!  _ Why did Combeferre just have to use those specific words? Wasn’t there anything else, in his vast vocabulary, that he could have said in the place of fucking  _ stress relief? _

“Whatever it is you do for him or to him or with him or  _ whatever it is, _ ” Combeferre huffed as he was starting to get himself worked up, “you make him feel better. I see it, I can really see it. He’s been better in the past few weeks since you two have been hanging out more and more. It’s good for him.”

“Good, I’m glad I could be of service,” Grantaire nodded. “Can I go now?”

“Wait just a second, buddo,” Courfeyrac placed a strong hand in the center of his chest. 

“I’m sorry, did you just call me  _ buddo? _ ” Grantaire furrowed his brow.

“Grantaire,” Combeferre said and Grantaire turned to him with a heavy sigh. “The reason we wanted to talk to you…”

“Oh, that wasn’t it?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows and when both his friends just shot him annoyed looks, he sighed and said, “Okay, go on.”

“I don’t know if he’s mentioned,” Combeferre began slowly, looking unsure of whether or not he should continue for a little while before continuing, “but Enjolras is going to spend Christmas with his parents.”

“Yes,” Grantaire nodded. “He did mention.”

“And what did he say about it when he mentioned it to you?” Combeferre asked. 

“He just — you know — he’s really upset,” Grantaire shrugged. “He told me that he told himself last year he wouldn’t go back again but they invited him and he agreed. He’s a little upset, that’s all.”

“That’s not all,” Courfeyrac shook his head. 

“Am I missing something here?” Grantaire asked. “Did his parents hit him or lock him in a basement or deny him food or, I don’t know, try to sell him? What exactly did they do?”

Combeferre sighed. “They — they never physically abused him. They never laid a hand on him, he always had food and clothes and they’d never lock him up.”

“And if there was any way they could have sold him they would have done it years ago, trust me, so they never tried to do that,” Courfeyrac said. 

“They’re money obsessed,” Combeferre said. “They care more about their reputation than anything else. They live in the cushiest, richest, most pretentious little suburb just outside of Paris and they don’t want anything to disrupt their perfect, fragile, paper mache world.”

Courfeyrac snorted. “ _ Please.  _ Don’t make me laugh. Their world isn’t made of paper mache. It’s glass. It’s  _ china,  _ and the finest of it.”

“They had a plan for Enjolras,” Combeferre told Grantaire. “From the day he was born, they had his whole life mapped out in front of him. Enjolras is fluent in six languages, not including French, and not including the ones he knows but isn’t fluent in, and you want to know why? Because from the age of about four his parents were hiring tutors to teach him other languages. And when he got older and was only fluent in six of them they were  _ disappointed. _ ” 

“I — I didn’t know he spoke anything but French and English,” Grantaire frowned. 

“French, English, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Italian, and Russian,” Courfeyrac crossed his arms. “But there so many more than he knows enough of to hold a conversation, some he can only read and write in. He can speak a lot of Hindi and Arabic and Chinese. He can read and write in Japanese. He’s pretty decent at Norwegian. He can hold a pretty complex conversation in sign language, as well.”

“I’ve never — I mean he’s never spoken in anything but —” 

  
“He usually doesn’t,” Courfeyrac interrupted Grantaire. “He likes to forget about his parents and that life he had as much as he can. But he just keeps going back at Christmas time.”

“As I was saying,” Combeferre said. “They had a plan for him. He was sent to the most expensive private school, he was supposed to go to med school or law school and then find a nice girl, have a few kids, and settle down. That was it. That was the life they had planned for him.”

“But instead —” Courfeyrac began.

“Instead,” Grantaire said slowly. “He organizes protests and rallies and he’s gay.”

“Exactly,” Combeferre nodded. “And when he goes home to visit, they try and set him up on dates and they convince him that he isn’t worth anything unless he fits their image of him.”

“So that’s why he comes back after Christmas and tries to date a girl,” Grantaire sighed. 

  
“Precisely,” Combeferre nodded. 

“I — I still don’t understand what you want me to do,” Grantaire frowned. 

“Make sure he knows he’s loved,” Courfeyrac said with a pleading look. “He won’t listen to us these days, so it’s up to you. Make him feel loved, and for Christ’s sake, try to make him see how stupid it is to go to his parents’ house for the holidays.”

“O-okay,” Grantaire nodded. “I’ll try. But I don’t think it’ll do much good. I don’t  _ matter  _ to him. Not really.”

“We’ll see,” was all that Combeferre said in reply.

***

Enjolras insisted they make meeting up in front of the library a habit when they were going out together, even though, all in all, Courfeyrac and Combeferre were laying off of them. Of course, Grantaire knew why and Enjolras didn’t, but it was still a relief to both of them.

“Ready to go?” Grantaire smiled when Enjolras walked up to him outside of the library building.

“Yeah, I think so,” Enjolras said. “I just wish you’d tell me what we’re going to do.”

“Ah, my dearest Apollo, that would ruin the surprise,” Grantaire smirked. “Come along.”

They took a cab a couple blocks away, paid, and got out of the cab. 

“Bowling?” Enjolras raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Grantaire grinned. “Come on.” He nodded toward the building and started walking toward the front door.   
  
“I — I’ve never been bowling,” Enjolras called after him. 

Grantaire turned around, eyes wide. “ _ What?! _ ”

“I — I never — my parents weren’t those kind of parents,” Enjolras frowned. “When we went to Disney, it was just for a business thing my dad was involved in. We never went bowling or mini golfing, we never went to the movies. They never came to my school plays or graduations.”

Grantaire frowned for a while, then smiled and reached out his hand. “Come on. I’ll show you the ropes.”

“Grantaire, I —”

“Come  _ on, _ ” Grantaire walked toward him and grabbed his hand. “You’re going to be great at it. You’re great at everything.”

“I am not,” Enjolras rolled his eyes, but he allowed himself to be dragged into the bowling alley. He let Grantaire rent their bowling shoes and lead him to Lane 3. 

Grantaire used the keypad to activate the monitor mounted to the wall above the lane. ‘GRANTAIRE’ and ‘ENJOLRAS’ appeared on the screen. 

“Okay,” Grantaire said, walking up the the lane and selecting a sleek ball from the rack, “so it’s best to use these three fingers, and you slip them right in the holes like so —”

“How  _ obscene, _ ” Enjolras smirked. 

Grantaire turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one who makes inappropriate jokes and sexual innuendos?”

“You’re a very bad influence on me,” Enjolras laughed. 

“Well, anyway,” Grantaire said, “you swing back like this, and you want to aim right down the center. You need to get enough speed to knock them all down, so you swing all the way back, take a few steps back, then move forward and —” he said, the ball rolling down the center of the lane, crashing into the perfectly arranged pins and sending them flying. 

“Whoa,” Enjolras said. 

“Now it’s your turn,” Grantaire said. 

“I — I don’t know, Grantaire,” Enjolras frowned. 

“You’re afraid of being terrible, aren’t you,” Grantaire chuckled and stuck his hands on his hips. “You’re afraid of being  _ terrible  _ at  _ bowling? _ ”

“So what if I am?” Enjolras glared.

Grantaire snorted. “You’re so ridiculous. Choose a damn bowling ball.”

Enjolras sighed. He walked over to the rack, picked up a ball and held onto it just as Grantaire had showed him. He swung his arm back and stepped forward, threw the ball and watched it roll… into the gutter.

“Okay, okay,” Grantaire said when Enjolras turned and scowled at him. “It’s okay. Just try again, yeah? You can do this. I believe in you.”

Enjolras frowned, but he turned back to the lane and selected another ball. He swung back then forward, sent the ball rolling, watched it drift and finally knock  _ one  _ pin over. 

“You know, it’s really refreshing to see that you’re actually bad at  _ something,  _ Apollo,” Grantaire grinned. “I need to be reminded every once in a while that you’re not perfect.”

“I hate you,” Enjolras glared.

“No, you don’t.”

Enjolras didn’t say anything. He rolled another bowling ball and knocked down one more pin before turning to face Grantaire. “Can we leave now?”

“No.” Grantaire shook his head. 

So they played.

Enjolras lost. 

***

The sun was setting later that same day and Enjolras and Grantaire were sitting on the frozen ground in the middle of a park. 

“Why are we doing this?” Enjolras asked. 

“Watching the sunset,” Grantaire shrugged. 

“I’m  _ cold, _ ” Enjolras frowned. 

“Stop whining.”

They fell into an easy silence as the sun sunk lower and lower, beneath the horizon, and the world around them grew dark, the stars shone above them in all of their incredible brilliance. 

Enjolras huddled closer to Grantaire. “Can we go back to your dorm?” he asked and kissed his cheek.

“Mmm,” Grantaire wrapped an arm around Enjolras, smiling. “Sure. What’re we going to do there?”

“Just want to hold you,” Enjolras said and Grantaire couldn’t help but smile wide at that. 

“Yeah, okay.”

***

They crawled into bed together and held each other tightly. 

Grantaire looked at Enjolras, ran his fingers over the barely there bruise around his eye. He frowned, thinking back to when Enjolras had returned from London with a black eye. Frowned deeper, thinking about how Enjolras would be leaving Paris for his parents’ house in a few days time. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Enjolras asked. 

“Stuff,” Grantaire said and he wrapped both of his arms around Enjolras again, held him as close as he could manage.

“What kind of stuff?” Enjolras asked curiously. 

“Never mind,” Grantaire shook his head. He closed his eyes. “Go to sleep, Apollo.”

“Grantaire?”

“Mm?”

“Why do you call me Apollo?”

“Stop asking.”

“Grantaire.”

“I already answered. You just weren’t listening and that’s not my fault.”

“ _ Grantaire.  _ Come on, I want to know.”

Grantaire was silent then, didn’t bother to respond. He thought that maybe if he could just get to sleep then Enjolras would stop asking, stop bugging him about it. He  _ needed  _ him to stop asking. 

He  _ needed  _ him to just stay in Paris, stay away from his godawful parents.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said. “Please look at me.”

And, well,  _ fuck.  _ Grantaire never said no to Enjolras. He opened his eyes and was met with Enjolras’ own shining eyes. 

“Why do you always call me Apollo?” Enjolras asked and dear  _ god,  _ those  _ eyes.  _ It wasn’t fair. 

“Because,” Grantaire said, “you’re perfect. Made of marble. Unbreakable. Sculpted amongst the stars themselves.”

Too far. He was going to far, saying too much.

“That’s not true,” Enjolras said and Grantaire couldn’t quite believe his eyes because it looked like Enjolras —  _ Enjolras  _ — was blushing and that just wasn’t possible because Enjolras did not blush. 

“Yes, it is,” Grantaire said.

“It’s not,” Enjolras shook his head. 

“It is, though,” Grantaire said. 

“Grantaire, stop, I’m being serious,” Enjolras huffed.    
  
“And I’m being fucking wild,” Grantaire sat up and looked down at Enjolras. 

He needed to stop. He needed to slow down. 

“Grantaire, what are you even saying?” Enjolras frowned. 

“Enjolras,” Grantaire sighed. “Don’t go to you parents’ house for Christmas.”

Enjolras blinked, obviously taken aback, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“For the past two years, I — I know we weren’t exactly friends, but I have seen you come back here for the past two years after visiting your parents and try to date a girl, try to act straight, try to  _ be straight, _ ” Grantaire huffed, shook his head. “It’s not who you are, it’s not you, Enj. You don’t have to change for them.”

“I’m not going to,” Enjolras frowned. “I’m not trying to. It’s different now. I’ve learned a lot in the past year, you know? About myself. I’m not going to try to be anything I’m not to please them, not anymore.”   
  
“I don’t believe you,” Grantaire matched Enjolras’ frown. 

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not my job in life to make sure you believe everything that comes out of my mouth,” Enjolras narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you care so much about what I do anyway?”

“Excuse me? Excuse  _ me?! _ ” Grantaire leapt out of bed so that his head was above Enjolras’ again, so that he was looking down on him. “Oh, I’m  _ sure  _ I heard you wrong because there’s no way in hell you just accused me of not caring about you! After lugging your ass back to your dorm while you were fucking plastered and begging me to fuck you? After the freaking debacle with the protest? After every fucking ABC meeting I’ve sat through just to  _ be there for you  _ —”

“You didn’t have to do any of that shit if you didn’t want to!” Enjolras screamed and then he was out of bed too and he and Grantaire were face to face. 

“Exactly! That’s exactly my point!” Grantaire yelled. “I didn’t have to do any of it but I did because I care about you! So don’t you dare tell me I’ve never cared because you’re all I’ve cared about in long fucking time! I care about  _ you!  _ I am in love with  _ you! _ ”

Enjolras froze, sure that he couldn’t have heard Grantaire correctly. 

Grantaire felt his chest tightening, collapsing around his lungs. He couldn’t remember how to breathe and he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember because if he could suffocate right about now, if he were to just drop dead then and there, that would be just fine with him.

“You... _ what? _ ” Enjolras said. 

Grantaire thought for a moment — for a single, blessedly sweet moment — that maybe the clouds above would open up and heaven itself would look down on the two of them and sing. Grantaire thought for a moment that maybe Enjolras would step toward him and place one hand flat against his chest, kiss him and whisper sweet things to him like “ _ I love you too, you fool _ ” and “ _ Never let me go again _ ” and every other cheesy little line in the book. 

Enjolras took a step away from Grantaire and said, “You  _ love me?  _ Is this a joke?”

“It’s not obvious?” Grantaire frowned. 

“No,” Enjolras frowned too.

“Well, shit, you’re oblivious,” Grantaire huffed. 

“Why did you never tell me?” Enjolras asked. 

Grantaire snorted. “You don’t like me. That’s why I never told you.”

“Why tell me now?” Enjolras frowned. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, trust me,” Grantaire sighed. “Just — just — you can’t go to your parents for Christmas, okay?”

“Excuse me?” Enjolras raised his eyebrows. 

“Stay here,” Grantaire sighed again. “Or go to a friend’s house or — or — something! I don’t know, just don’t go to your parents’ house.”

“Why the hell not?” Enjolras crossed his arms. 

“Because they’re horrible people!” Grantaire shouted.

“You’ve never met them!” Enjolras snapped. 

“Yeah, I know, but Combeferre and Courfeyrac told me all about them, all about how you grew up and —”

“They did  _ what?! _ ” Enjolras scowled. 

“No! Don’t do that! Don’t get mad at them!”   
  


“And why shouldn’t I get to be mad at them?” 

“Because they’re worried about you!” Grantaire cried. “ _ I’m  _ worried about you. That’s all this is. We all just want to help you, protect you, keep you safe. Can’t you see that?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m an adult and I’m fully capable of taking care of myself and making my own choices, thank you  _ very  _ much.” Enjolras was so mad that he was shaking. 

“Okay, that’s all well and good, except clearly you shouldn’t be allowed to do that because you’re delusional!”   
  
“Fuck off!”

“They’re not going to change!” Grantaire took a step toward Enjolras. “They’re never going to change! People like them don’t change! Take it from me, I know better than anyone!”

“People do change!” Enjolras snapped back. 

“No they don’t! They fucking don’t!”

“You don’t get it!” Enjolras shook his head. “You don’t get it! They’re my parents, I can’t just cut them out no matter how shitty they are!”

“Yes, you can!”

“No! I can’t! You don’t just cut your parents out!”

“I did!”   
  


“Yeah, well, that’s how  _ you  _ handled things with your parents,” Enjolras snapped. “That’s not how I’m going to handle things with mine.”   
  
“No, no, no, you don’t get to judge me for this, you self righteous ass!” Grantaire snarled. “My father beat me so badly he broke my shoulder! My mother pushed me down a flight of stairs! When they got sick of me or mad at me or I mildly inconvenienced them they would  _ lock me in a closet!  _ And when they came home one day when I was seventeen and found me making out with a boy they kicked me out. You don’t get to judge me for cutting those pieces of shit who like to call themselves my parents out of my life, Enjolras, you  _ don’t  _ —”

“This isn’t even what we should be talking about right now,” Enjolras huffed.

“Oh, please, correct me then! What should we be discussing?” Grantaire exclaimed. “Bestow upon me thy wisdom, O Mighty Apollo!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Enjolras hissed. “You  _ love me.  _ You said it was just sex!”

“Because that’s all you wanted!”

“But it’s not all that you wanted!”

“No, but when does what I want ever matter?”

“Don’t turn this around and try to make me feel bad! It was your idea! You offered! If I’d have known that you wanted more then —”

“Then what?!” Grantaire shouted angrily. “What would you have done, Enjolras?! Love me  _ back?! _ ”

“I  _ don’t know! _ ” Enjolras cried. “You never gave me the chance to figure it out!”   
  
“Right, right, okay,” Grantaire nodded. “Right now you’re  _ totally  _ convincing me that you would have reacted  _ really well  _ if I’d have said, ‘No, Enjolras, I don’t want to have casual sex with you because am I totally and completely, utterly, head over heels in love with you and have been since the first time I laid eyes on you’!” His voice was practically dripping in sarcasm. 

“That’s not fair, Grantaire, and you know it — you  _ fucking  _ know it!” Enjolras yelled. “You didn’t just tell me! You sprung it on me to try and convince me that I’m wrong — which, actually, makes a whole bunch of sense because now that I say it out loud that sounds  _ exactly  _ like something I would expect of you!”   
  


“Right,  _ I’m  _ the one who’ll do anything to prove I’m right,” Grantaire rolled his eyes. “ _ Totally! _ ”

“I’m leaving.” Enjolras shook his head. “And I’m going to my parents house this weekend! And everything will be fine! They’re going to come to terms with me being gay, they’re going to change, and then you’re going to see how  _ wrong  _ you are!”

“Mhm.”

“You’ll see!”

“Sure.”

“You’re going to regret this! You’re going to look like a complete idiot!”

“Okay. Get out already,” Grantaire plopped himself down on the bed, arms crossed. 

“Gladly!” Enjolras exclaimed. He wrenched the door open and looked back at Grantaire over his shoulder. “Just in case it wasn’t clear,” he said, “whatever we had is so done.”

“I would expect nothing else,  _ Apollo, _ ” Grantaire spat. 

Enjolras shot one last glare at him before storming from the room, slamming the door behind himself.

Grantaire sat on his bed, knees hugged against his chest, for a long time. His breathing came hard and fast and tears began to sting his eyes and sobs began to wrack his body. 

He had fucked up. Like royally fucked up.

***

“What did I tell you?”

“Shut up.”

“No. No, I won’t shut up! Seriously, Grantaire,  _ what  _ did I tell you? I told you that it’d all go to shit if you didn’t communicate and I  _ told you  _ that you’d end up —”

“Shut the hell up, Eponine, I’m serious,” Grantaire snapped. 

Grantaire hadn’t shown up to class that morning, so Eponine headed straight to his dorm afterward to check on him, only to find him curled up in his bed with red eyes, unable to drag himself out of bed.

“I’m done, okay?” Grantaire sighed. “I’m done. He doesn’t want me and I need to get over it.”

“You didn’t even give him a chance to think about it,” Eponine frowned. “You were screaming at him about his parents — which was incredibly stupid, by the way.”

“He needs to fucking grow up,” Grantaire rolled his eyes. “He talks as if he’s the only one who’s got crap parents, but look at mine, look at  _ yours.  _ He needs to grow up and get over himself, that’s what he needs to do, and I don’t need to be wasting my time with someone like that.”

“You don’t mean that,” Eponine frowned as she sat down beside him.

“I do, though.”

“No, you don’t,” Eponine sighed. She shook her head slowly and gently moved her hand up and down along Grantaire’s spine. “He needs help —  _ gentle  _ and  _ loving  _ and  _ caring  _ help — and you know it. You’ll never give up on him, never give up on having him.”

“I can’t have him,” Grantaire frowned. 

“Yes, you can,” Eponine said. 

“No, I can’t,” Grantaire shook his head. “I can’t have him, I can’t ever have him. No one can. I — I didn’t realize it until just now.”

“Grantaire, I really think if you just —”

“Forget it, Ep,” Grantaire shook his head. “It’s over.”

Eponine sighed. “Whatever, Grantaire.”

They sat in silence for a long time before Eponine asked, “What are you doing for Christmas? Are you just staying on campus again?”

“Yeah, probably,” Grantaire shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go. Why do you ask?”

“Well, Courf’s parents are spending Christmas with some extended family in London but Courf is still going to stay at the family house in Versailles and he’s invited a bunch of us to stay with him. He wanted to invite you but he seemed to think you two might not be on the best of terms, for whatever reason.” Eponine raised her eyebrows in a way that obviously asked why Courfeyrac would think that.

Grantaire sighed and told her about how Courfeyrac and Combeferre had been  _ suspicious  _ as of late.

“Hm,” Eponine said. “Well, regardless, you should come. It’ll be fun. Take your mind off things, you know.”

“Mm,” Grantaire said thoughtfully. “Actually that sounds like a great idea.”

It had been too long since he had just hung out with his friends, talked about whatever, and pushed Enjolras from his mind. He thought, too, that he might try to  take up drawing again. There was a whole world of possibilities now that Enjolras didn’t consume every one of his waking thoughts. 

“So I can tell Courfeyrac that you’ll be coming with us?” Eponine smiled. 

“No, I’ll tell him myself,” Grantaire grinned. “This is going to be great. We’re going to have a great Christmas!”

He didn’t need Enjolras!   
  
“Well, I’m glad you think so,” Eponine nodded. “But, you know we’re not done with this talk, right? You’re being an idiot and I am going to fix that.”

“It’s never over, Ep, I’ve come to expect it at this point,” Grantaire sighed. 

***

Late in the morning on Christmas Eve, Grantaire, Eponine, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Jehan, Joly, Bossuet, Marius, Cosette, and all of their bags were piled into Combeferre’s minivan that was made to seat eight people. 

Grantaire and Eponine had walked out together, bags slung over their shoulders, to the disgustingly, obnoxiously yellow car that had been a joint eighteenth birthday/Christmas/“Congrats on getting into college!” gift from ‘Ferre’s parents. (Courfeyrac called it the Millennium Falcon.) There, they found Cosette in a dispute with her father. 

“I just can’t believe we’re not going to be together on  _ Christmas! _ ” Valjean exclaimed with a hurt look. 

“I know, Papa, and normally I wouldn’t go,” Cosette said, then placed one hand on her hip and smirked, “but I’m making sure you go on that date if it’s the last thing I do.”

“You’ve got a date, Professor?!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. 

Valjean turned red. 

“Quiet,” Combeferre hissed at his boyfriend, slinging an arm around Courfeyrac’s shoulders.

“Promise me you’ll call him back,” Cosette sighed. “Promise me you’ll take him up on that dinner date.”

Valjean shook his head. “I don’t understand why you want me to date so badly. I have all I need. I’ve got you, I’ve got classes to teach. What more can I ask for?”

Marius smiled and wrapped his arm around Cosette’s waist. “What’s life without love?”

Valjean glared venomously and if looks to kill then Marius would have been very happy to have Joly nearby in that moment. 

Marius turned an even deeper shade of red than Valjean had when Courfeyrac had asked about his date. He dropped his arm from his girlfriend’s waist and clasped his hands behind his back. “Sorry, sir.”

“Promise me,” Cosette raised her eyebrows at her father. 

He sighed. “I promise.” 

“Good!” Cosette beamed and she stood on tiptoes to kiss her father’s cheek. “I’ll see you in a few days, Papa. Have a wonderful Christmas and an  _ excellent  _ date!”

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” Valjean waved to his daughter as she climbed into the very back of the van, then glared at Marius when he climbed in after her. 

Bossuet and Jehan squeezed into the third row of the minivan while Combeferre started the car to get the heat running and Grantaire, Eponine, Courfeyrac, and Joly squashed everyone’s bags into the trunk. 

Soon Courfeyrac was at Combeferre’s side, Grantaire, Eponine, and Joly were strapped in alongside one another, and they were off on a twenty four minute journey to Courfeyrac’s childhood home. 

Getting back out of the car was an adventure in and of itself, but they managed well enough. Everyone dumped their things in the living room except for Courfeyrac and Combeferre who were going to share Courf’s old bedroom. (“They gon’ get it  _ ooooooooooonnn! _ ” Joly put it so very eloquently.)

Christmas Eve was spent drinking (obviously) and eating junk (obviously). They talked, laughed,  _ sang.  _ In fact, it wasn’t until Grantaire was curled up in a sleeping bag beside Eponine on the living room floor that he realized he hadn’t thought about Enjolras in hours. 

“Hey, ‘Taire?” Eponine said softly.    
  


“Mm?”

“I think everyone else is asleep except for us,” Eponine sighed. 

“Yeah, I can’t sleep,” Grantaire said. 

“Me, neither,” Eponine said. “Why is that?”

“One of the many curses of unrequited love, I suppose,” Grantaire sighed. 

Eponine frowned. “Look at them.”

In the small but of light pouring through the windows from the moon, Grantaire looked in the same direction at Eponine to look at Marius lying on the couch with his arms wrapped around Cosette.

“You know,” Eponine whispered after a long while, “I think they’re really good for each other.”

“Yeah?” Grantaire said. 

“Yeah,” Eponine sighed. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever totally get over it — over  _ him  _ — but I think I can be happy for them. They really like one another, and that’s really good.”

“It is,” Grantaire agreed.

“You’ve still got a shot, though,” Eponine said. “Your guy isn’t in love with someone else, he’s just a little scared. You can do it, Grantaire, you can make it happen.”

“Nah,” Grantaire sighed. “I do believe it’s too late for me and Enjolras now.”

“You haven’t even tried.”

“I have.”

“No, not really.”

“Goodnight, Eponine.”

Eponine sighed. “Night.”

But neither of them slept that night.

***

The following evening wasn’t spent much different from Christmas Eve. Joly had hung mistletoe (which he had smuggled in his backpack)  _ everywhere;  _ Courfeyrac had All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey playing on repeat; Marius and Cosette were busying themselves with baking the cookies for everyone to decorate; everyone else was immersed in a game of Jenga and Grantaire was finding himself at the bottom of a bottle as per usual. 

“Cookies!” Cosette exclaimed at the same time the doorbell began to ring persistently. 

“Ugh, I swear to god if it’s one of my stupid fucking neighbors,” Courfeyrac was shaking his head, heading to the front door, “I will scream. I don’t even care, I will actually  _ scream  _ in their face, I hate them all and I dealt with them enough for eighteen — Enjolras?!”

Grantaire turned his head in the direction of the front door and Eponine looked to Grantaire with wide eyes. 

“Can I come in?” Enjolras asked and Grantaire frowned because he sounded like he’d been crying for hours — he sounded  _ broken.  _

Grantaire got to his feet as Courfeyrac was saying, “Yeah, of course you can,” and leading him into the living room. 

It was like having a flashback to when Enjolras had showed up outside of Grantaire’s dorm room after the protest in London. He stood in the sitting room entrance looking weary, with a huge bruise around his right eye.

“Enjolras!” 

“What happened?”

“Oh my god! Are you okay?”

“Who did that to you?”

“Who the  _ fuck  _ hurt you?! Who do I have to kill, Enj?!”

Enjolras was immediately bombarded with questions. People were getting to their feet and moving toward him, Joly was already examining the black eye without prompting.

His eyes were puffy and red, and his clothes and hair were in disarray. 

“Enj?” Bossuet said. “Can you talk to us?”

“Please?” Jehan pleaded. “Just tell us what happened.”

“We can help,” Marius said.

“Grantaire,” was Enjolras’ answer. 

All eyes immediately turned to Grantaire,  _ accusing _ eyes.

“I didn’t do anything! I couldn’t have! I’ve been  _ here! _ ” Grantaire exclaimed.

Everyone looked back to Enjolras.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras repeated. “ _ Hold me, _ ” he reached out. “Please.”

And then, everyone’s jaws dropped, including Grantaire’s. 

“Please, Grantaire,  _ please, _ ” Enjolras frowned. 

“Go up to my room,” Courfeyrac said to Grantaire quietly, getting very close to his ear. “Make sure he gets some rest. And good luck. Oh! And congratulations.”

Grantaire glared at him because there was no need for luck and no reason to warrant any kind of congratulations. He was going to calm and comfort Enjolras and that was that, that was it, that was  _ all  _ that was going to happen (no matter how much Grantaire wanted to lay him down and kiss away every one of his troubles).

“Come on,” Grantaire put a comforting arm around Enjolras and led him up the stairs, all too aware of the eyes that were baring into the back of his head. 

He turned into Courfeyrac’s bedroom and shut the door behind Enjolras and himself. “Do you want some ice for that eye?” he asked.

Enjolras shook his head.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Grantaire asked and he and Enjolras sat down on the bed, side by side. 

“Just hold me,” Enjolras groaned, leaning into Grantaire, resting his head on his shoulder. 

“Okay,” Grantaire sighed. He gently pushed Enjolras down onto the pillows then laid down and wrapped his arms around him. He was silent for a long time, the room was silent save for Enjolras’ small sniffles, and then Grantaire asked, “It was your parents, wasn’t it.” 

It wasn’t a question, Grantaire already knew the answer, so Enjolras did not reply. Instead, he broke down, sobbing violently, burying his face against Grantaire’s chest. 

“Sshhh,” Grantaire soothed, running his fingers through Enjolras’ hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“You were right,” Enjolras groaned miserably. “You were  _ right. _ ”

“Yes, that does tend to happen every once in a great while,” Grantaire joked but Enjolras didn’t laugh. 

“I fought with them,” Enjolras sighed. “They still think I’m going to grow out of it in another year or two. They think I’ll  _ come to my senses,  _ as they so eloquently put it.”

“I wish I was wrong, Enjolras, I really do,” Grantaire frowned. “They’re shit, they really are. Just shit.”

“Thanks for trying,” Enjolras sighed. 

“Anytime,” Grantaire smiled. 

They were both quiet then, but after a while it was Enjolras who broke the silence. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“Your parents?”   
  


“Us.”

“Oh. That. Um, I don’t think there’s really anything to discuss, is there?”

“I think there’s  _ a lot  _ to talk about,” Enjolras raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, well, go ahead then,” Grantaire frowned. He looked weary, and even a little scared if Enjolras was being totally honest.

“You love me.”

“Yes.” There was no denying it now. No turning back.

“You never gave me a chance to think about that,” Enjolras frowned. “You told me and then you were screaming at me and —”

“Well, you were screaming at me, too!” Grantaire said. 

“I never said that I wasn’t!” Enjolras huffed. “Just listen, okay?”

Grantaire sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

“If you had told me from the beginning instead of going along with whatever I said,” Enjolras began, “then I would have told you that I felt the same way.”

Grantaire looked at him, puzzled. “What?”

“You said you’ve been in love with me since the first time you saw me and, well, it hasn’t been  _ that  _ long,” Enjolras sighed. “If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t really know how long it’s been. It kind of just hit me one day.”

“I — I don’t think I understand,” Grantaire said. “I — I’m lost.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and kissed Grantaire full on the mouth.

Grantaire looked at him when he pulled away with wide eyes. “I — but — I don’t — but you — I don’t understand.”

“I love you, too,” Enjolras smiled. 

“Then why were you so worried about people finding out we’re sleeping together?” Grantaire asked, brow furrowed. 

“Because then they’d assume we were going to end up dating,” Enjolras sighed. “And I didn’t think that I could bare it.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said and for the first time that he could remember he was stunned into silence. 

“I did lie a little bit, though,” Enjolras admitted. “I did tell Combeferre and Courfeyrac, and they’ve both known how I feel about you — well — longer than I have, actually.”

Grantaire smiled. “That’s good. Because if we’re being honest here, Eponine knows  _ all  _ about all of this.” 

Enjolras laughed. “Yeah, I kind of figured. And I thought that if you hadn’t told her then she definitely figured it out when she barged in that one time when I stayed overnight.”

Grantaire laughed too. “Yeah, you weren’t very convincing.”

“Well, neither were you!”

“Never said that I was,” Grantaire snickered. 

Enjolras sighed with a smile and reached up to brush his fingers across Grantaire’s cheek. “So… what do we do now?”

“I have a few ideas,” Grantaire kissed Enjolras and turned him onto his back to get on top of him. 

“Good! You still need to tie me up, remember,” Enjolras laughed and held Grantaire’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply. 

“Hey, Enj?” Grantaire said softly into his partner’s mouth. 

“Mm?” Enjolras slid his fingers through Grantaire’s hair. 

“Tell me again that you love me,” Grantaire pleaded, voice laced with uncertainty, every insecurity he had bottled up inside of him seeping through the walls he kept up.

Enjolras grinned and kissed him again. “I’ll tell you every single day if you want me to. I —” he kissed Grantaire, “ — love —” he kissed him again, “ —  _ you. _ ”

Grantaire grinned. “I love you too, Apollo.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe the series is over! This is probably one of my favorite series I've ever written and I've gotta be honest I'm really sad it's over,,,,
> 
> See the thing about that is, I AM going to add more on. I'm marking the series completed for now, but eventually I'm going (wait for it,,, drumroll,,,) write the whole series from E's perspective wooooo !!! (also I may eventually write E getting that bondage he wanted, and maaaaaaybe more because I've really fallen in love with this universe).
> 
> Well, I hope you've all enjoyed. Special thanks @pantasticlams for vigorously proofreading the whole series!! (I'm gifting this not-so-final final installment to her for all of her hard work).
> 
> Everyone keep your eyes peeled for more in this series,,,
> 
> All the love xx
> 
> (if you would like to apply to edit my future fanfictions and work with me, give me some second opinions, and help me out in places where I need to touch up the story then please copy and paste the link below to fill out the application form  
> https://goo.gl/forms/MjwceEHAhTdcp2Xf2 )


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